Between A Beer And A Hard Place
by WritePassion
Summary: Undercover work can be brutal, and when Sam and Rebecca are hot on Anson's trail, it gets downright dangerous.


_Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just play with it._**  
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_Just some quirky little thing that came to me this afternoon. Eight and a half hours of writing and rewriting later, here it is. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but it's a little longer than I planned, yet I decided to keep it one chapter._

**Between A Beer And A Hard Place**

By WritePassion

Sam and Rebecca chased Anson to Atlantic City. They lost him, but at least he hadn't figured out that the two were on his tail. He called Rebecca and gave her instructions for delivering the package to his next stop, a small city in Wisconsin. And that's where things got really weird.

As soon as they arrived, the couple found one of the last hotel rooms still open at a small inn along the river. It was, as the front desk clerk informed them, Brat Fest weekend. Every hotel room in town was booked solid, and if it hadn't been for a cancellation, Sam and Rebecca would have been taking up lodging in the rental car. It was average, maybe even a little lower class than what Sam was used to lately; he was spoiled from living in Elsa's five star hotel.

When new to an area, the first task for a spy is to do reconnaissance and get the lay of the land. The inn was close to bars, restaurants, and shopping, but with evening coming and the festival being such a large draw to the area, Sam and Rebecca decided to follow the crowd. The local chamber offered a free shuttle to Founder's Park, so they packed themselves on board with all the others and took the ride.

"This park is huge. You think we'll find Anson here," Rebecca asked. "He never struck me as the party type."

"Anson is a man who appreciates culture. He'll probably check it out."

"But this looks like a trailer trash convention," Rebecca protested. Her head swiveled around as she took in the people. It was a warm evening, but she wouldn't have been caught dead in some of the short shorts and skimpy tops she spied on the women. Even worse, it should have been against the law for some of them to expose their corpulent selves that way.

"The tattoo parlors in this town must make a killing," Sam muttered as he eyed the artwork on both men and women. "But hey, look, there are some normal looking people around here!"

"I don't think we'll find him in this mess."

"Of course we will. Anson told you to drop the package at this park. Did he say where, exactly?"

"In a building marked 3D. I don't see that."

"Well, we'll keep walking around until we find it." As they conversed, they pushed through the masses of people toward the south end of the park. On the right, a very large tent held food vendor booths and a beer station, and a band played 70s cover music at the south end. To the left, a small carnival was set up for kids and adults who were crazy enough to take a ride after imbibing on too much beer and bratwurst.

The smell of burning charcoal and cooking meat filled the air, the blue haze carried by a warm wind. Rebecca's stomach growled, but she kept walking. Once they deposited the package, maybe there would be time to eat something. Beyond the entertainment and a road that ran through the park, they saw an unoccupied shelter house.

"There it is, 3D," Sam said as he stared at it. He didn't dare point.

"Yeah. He said there was a barrel near the bubbler." She wrinkled her nose. "I have no idea what a bubbler is!" She crossed the road with Sam, and they circled around the building casually, as if they were just checking out the river that flowed lazily past the park. A sudden inspiration hit her, and she grabbed Sam's hand.

"What are you doing?" He kept his voice low and glanced down at her.

"Just putting on a show, in case someone's watching us, Chucky." She grinned as she bumped into him, keeping the package between them.

Indeed, there were a couple of teenagers hanging around near the shelter, watching them with interest. Sam noticed them and let go of Rebecca's hand, then moved his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him to hide the package.

Sam kept an eye on them as he and Rebecca walked past. "Do you think they're waiting for this?"

"Not intentionally, but I'm afraid if we drop it off now, Anson will never get it."

"I hear ya. Here, give me that thing." He took the package, a large manila envelope, and while they faced the river he undid a couple of buttons on his shirt and tucked it inside.

While he worked, Rebecca turned and moved in front of him, and with a smile she gently tugged at his collar with one hand. The other moved over his shoulder and around his neck.

"What are you doing now?"

"Making it a more interesting show," she replied softly before pulling him into a kiss.

His first instinct was to push her away, but he knew how this worked, it was just part of the role they were playing. If they kept it up long enough, the teens would get tired and leave, and they would be free to check out the shelter. Maybe. He hoped so, because every second that Rebecca's soft lips pressed and molded to his, he became increasingly uncomfortable with this guise. Yet a part of him couldn't help but respond in kind.

She touched a button on his shirt. He stiffened and hesitated in the kiss.

"Relax, I'm just buttoning you up," she mumbled against his lips.

He pulled away a little. "I think I can take care of that myself."

"No, you can't." She grinned and finished the job. She put both arms around his neck, giggled, and turned him slightly so she could look behind him. "They're still here."

He sighed as he put his hands on her sides and moved them to her back. "I guess we better make this look good, then."

A hint of shyness passed over her expression for a moment, and then like turning on a switch, Rebecca pulled him toward her lips again. This time he kissed her with more passion, all the while picturing Elsa. He wasn't unfamiliar with the task of pretending to make out with other women while he had feelings for another back home. This time, however, it was different. He really loved Elsa, and every moment that he had to do this grated on his conscience. That was something new for him.

Rebecca moaned softly, and it was then that he knew he'd done too good a job. He pulled away, the force making their lips feel as if they'd been ripped. He breathed like he'd just run a marathon, and she wasn't far behind. Thank God for the fading light. I don't wanna see what's in her eyes right now.

"We better get this done and find some place where we can watch to see who takes the package," he said gruffly and worked to free himself from her.

"That was nice, Sam."

"Yeah, whatever." He turned, happy to see the kids were gone. "Come on, let's find this bubbler thing with the barrel next to it. It would be nice if we could get back to Miami tonight."

"You know that's not gonna happen." She stood and stared at him in the dusk.

"A guy can wish, can't he?" He mumbled, then took her hand and led her to the shelter.

Three sides of the building were left open to the elements. The fourth side housed restrooms and a small bare bones kitchen area with no appliances. Large grills stood outside behind it. On the wall between the two bathroom doors, a small white ceramic drinking fountain hung, with a trash barrel next to it. Rebecca approached it, turned the handle, and water flowed in a cascading fashion down the spigot into the drain.

"I think we just found our bubbler," she said with a small chuckle.

"Really?"

"I feel pretty sure about this. There's the barrel." She held out her hand, and Sam undid his buttons to pull out the package.

"Here you go." He gave it to her and quickly covered himself up. He didn't want her volunteering to dress him again. That was too awkward.

Rebecca leaned into the barrel and found a copy of the local paper, exactly as Anson said it would be. It was in pristine condition, never read. She stuck the package into the fold and straightened. Closing the distance between her and Sam, she whispered, "Okay, it's in place. Now we just have to watch to see if Anson picks it up." She took his hand again, and if he'd been able to see in the near darkness, he would have seen her grin. "Come on, Chucky, let's go sit by the river!"

She led him to the water's edge and sat on a large concrete drainage pipe. Sam leaned against it, keeping his feet on the ground, his legs spread apart to steady himself on the uneven ground. He remembered telling Mike and Pearce once to keep three feet on the floor at all times, and now he could almost hear the advice coming from Mike. He dislodged the thought from his mind and focused on their mission. From this vantage point, they could see inside the shelter, but it was too dark to detect details. As if in answer to a prayer, a light turned on inside to illuminate the restrooms, giving them a perfect view.

"I wonder if he'll go to retrieve it with that light showing everything," Sam mused.

"I don't know. Just be quiet. We don't want to spook him."

Sam heard a buzzing near his ear and swatted at it. It was soon followed by another. Great, he couldn't leave Florida and find relief from the mosquitos! He slapped one on his arm and Rebecca shushed him. He gave her an irritated look. Her response was a jab to the ribs. A protest was on his lips, but he looked toward the shelter and saw a young guy loitering near the trash barrel. He looked around nervously, and his eyes locked on them.

"Uh oh, he's gonna make us," Sam muttered. He put an arm around Rebecca's shoulders so quickly, she squealed. He spun her until her body settled between his legs, and he crushed her lips with his. He didn't have to tell her what to do. She put her arms around him and worked the act for everything she could.

Something banged against the trash barrel and they carefully turned their eyes toward the shelter, their lips frozen in place. "He's a courier," Rebecca said, breaking the contact.

"Careful." Sam kept her in place. He felt the rise and fall of her breasts against his chest as she breathed. No doubt she could feel what her kiss had done to him. It wasn't unusual in such circumstances, but it was still embarrassing anyway. If she'd never done anything like this before, he had a feeling that before the night was over, she would get her feelings hurt.

"Okay, he's on the move. Let's go." Rebecca peeled herself away from him and hurried toward the festival. "He's going into that mass of people, and if we lose him, we're done. Mission over."

"Yeah, I know." Sam quickly regained his composure as he and Rebecca followed the man.

A half hour later, trailing after their third courier handoff, he disappeared into the crowd. "Dammit. I can't believe we lost him!" Rebecca sounded close to tears. Sam wasn't expecting that.

"It's okay. Let's stick around for awhile, and maybe we'll find him again." He saw the look in her eyes. It was one of frustration and defeat. "Are you hungry?"

"How can you eat at a time like this?"

He took in a long breath of the smoky scent mingled with the yeastiness of beer. "How can you not? Relax, Becky. We might just get lucky and find him in this. As we've been walking around, it seems like a lot of people manage to find friends in this crowd. I bet they find a few enemies as well."

Rebecca stood in the middle of the thoroughfare with arms crossed and an angry scowl on her face.

"Come on, Becky. You look like you're having a terrible time. Let me buy you a beer and a brat, and I guarantee you'll feel better after you have something to eat and loosen up." He steered her toward the tent. "Come on. You owe it to yourself to take advantage of this limited time offer. It's not every day that I buy a lady dinner, and if I do, it's when I'm with Elsa."

"I'm sorry about... you know." She looked back at him with an apology in her eyes.

He smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry about it. It's between you and me, and nobody else. Just part of the job, right?"

"Yeah." Somehow, she sounded less than convinced.

With a beer in one hand and a brat nestled in a bun in the other, Rebecca and Sam casually cruised the park and people watched. Their eyes took in the groups mingling under the floodlights and the couples on a terraced hill making out in the shadows. A large stage at the north end featured some once-famous, washed-up 80s hair band. Not Sam's style of music, and apparently not Rebecca's either. She winced at the sounds coming out of the speakers.

"Do we really have to go in there," she yelled into his ear as they approached a fenced off area.

"It looks like this is the only way in or out. If we keep an eye on it, no, we don't."

"But that would force us to have to sit here and listen to this crap!"

"The sacrifices we make as spies." He smirked and parked himself on a picnic table bench. He situated himself so that he faced the stage directly, but he had full view of who came in and out of the pit. Rebecca sat with him.

Eventually, others joined them at the table and she had no choice but to butt up against him. Sam slipped off the end of the bench. She looked up at him with concern.

"You want another beer? I'll be right back!"

She rolled her eyes at the poor excuse to get away from her. What's wrong with him? Was it really that distasteful to kiss me? I didn't think it was so bad. I can see why the women go for him. He's warm... tender, even... and I bet he can be pretty passionate with the right woman. Haven't had that in a long time, not since that time in Brazil. She shook her head to release the memory. That was too long ago. A job where she'd let her heart run away, and she vowed it would never happen again. But aren't you doing it again? No, this is different!

"Hey, you okay?" She jumped and turned her gaze over her shoulder. Sam stood less than a foot away with two beers and two sticks. He set the beers down on the table. "Thought you might still be hungry, so I got you a brat on a stick."

She took it and asked, "So how's that different than a brat in a bun?"

"These are a different kind, I guess." He took a bite. "Oh, spicier. Reminds me of some of those Cubans at Carlito's." He grinned.

Rebecca picked at hers. It brought back memories of Brazil again, the spicy, succulent foods, and the hot raging romance she had with Eduardo... Stop thinking about that! She changed the subject in her head. "Have you seen him yet?"

"Nope. Maybe we should keep moving."

She liked that idea. Rebecca finished off her brat, sipped the beer, and walked with Sam toward the tent where the other band played. Along the way a vendor was selling roasted corn, so she bought herself one, and one for Sam since he'd so far paid for dinner. As the time grew later and later, the crowd began to thin out. First, it was the families with small children. When curfew came around, the teenagers disappeared or tried to hide from the healthy law enforcement presence. That left the hard core partiers; the event turned into a drunk fest.

"Hey honey, how about a dance?"

Rebecca found herself ripped from where she walked beside Sam, a strong arm curled her into a very drunk guy with half his body covered in tattoos, and he walked her away toward the tent. In his free hand, his beer sloshed over the edge of his cup.

"Becky!" Sam closed the distance quickly, but he needn't have worried.

Rebecca grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and freed herself. A few well placed blows, and the big strong guy lay curled up on the trampled grass, gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

"You okay?"

"Fine, Chuck. I didn't need any help, you know that."

"Yeah, but I had to ask anyway." He told Mike once that she was a scary woman when she was angry. She just proved it again.

"Sam, I see him. Anson, he's over there." She jutted her chin in the direction she wanted him to look.

Sam smiled and spoke into her ear. "See? I told you that people find their friends, and enemies, in this crowd."

Anson seemed to be just enjoying himself, listening to the band and drinking beer. They stayed out of his line of sight. Rebecca brought Sam another beer, and the two sat on a bench with their backs against the slats. Sam rested his arm along the back and crossed his legs casually. Rebecca played her part and leaned into him. He wasn't really expecting her to do that. They didn't have to play the lover part for Anson, because if he saw them, he would identify them immediately. Then Anson turned toward them, and so did Rebecca. Dutifully, Sam lowered his head and kissed her. It was only a short one, because he didn't think he could handle a long drawn out production again.

He raised his head just enough to see what Anson was up to, then lowered it. "He's looking this way, Rebecca," Sam whispered before he seized her lips again. She tasted like beer with a touch of butter and salt. Strange how such a mixture could be so captivating. She pulled away from him, and he saw something in her eyes that he couldn't comprehend. Over her shoulder, he saw Anson leaving the tent with a woman.

"He's on the move. Let's go." His cup empty, Sam tossed it in the trash as he got up to follow their target. Rebecca followed on his heels.

The street lights on the road leading out of the park weren't very bright, which was a good thing. It allowed them to follow Anson. He walked with the woman, they followed at a safe distance, and it seemed as if they would walk all night.

"Rebecca, he's heading toward the river, toward our hotel."

"You think so?"

"I recognize these buildings. We passed them on the way to the park."

Rebecca realized that they were in the downtown area. This late at night it was practically deserted and all the shops were dark. A few other couples walked in the same direction, which made sense because two hotels sat on the riverfront, along with several condominium buildings and complexes. When they reached the hotel, Anson and the woman were half way across the bridge.

"Where is he going?"

"I don't know. Let's keep following them."

The trail ended at the condominium across the river. The woman unlocked the door and let Anson inside, then pulled it shut behind her. She led him to an elevator, went inside, and the man followed her with a wicked grin.

"Well, I'll be. Anson's gonna get some, but not if we get in there first," Rebecca muttered. She tried the door, then looked at Sam. "I hear you're the lock picking specialist. Open this thing!"

"I would, except for one thing. See those cameras? This place is probably armed with a really good security alarm system, too. The second I pick that lock, every siren in the place will go off, Anson will know we're here, and he'll be gone before we can bail ourselves out of the local pokey."

"So what do you suggest we do, smart guy?"

"Maybe we can watch from the other side of the river." Sam grabbed her hand and led her back to the hotel. She unlocked the door and Sam rasped, "Don't turn on the lights. Let's see if we can see him." He approached the window and pulled back the curtain. "Bingo. Look at that. What an exhibitionist."

"What? Let me see!" Rebecca pushed him aside and looked through the opening. "Eeew, how can she kiss that snake?"

"Good question. He's probably just using her for a place to lay his head tonight." Sam opened the curtains more so he could sit in a chair and watch the activity across the river. "I tell you, this is not how I planned on spending my Friday night, watching the freak show."

Rebecca felt a bubble of laughter come from inside her, and it slowly burst past her lips.

"What's so funny?"

"You. But that was so true." She sat on the edge of Sam's bed and watched with a grimace. "I'd rather watch the Playboy channel. Jeez!"

"Come on, don't tell me you've never had to watch two people make love during your entire time spying."

"Well, yes, I have. But it was never anyone I detested so much." Her nose wrinkled. "And I'd hardly call that making love."

Sam let out a long sigh. "I know what you mean. You know what? I think we need something to make this go down a little easier. There was a liquor store across the street that's still open. I'll get something. What do you want?"

"Whatever you get is fine with me."

"Great. I'll see if I can rustle up some ingredients for mojitos." He grinned, took the keycard from her, and left the room. "Let me know if I miss anything good!" The look she gave him caused him to bark out a laugh as he closed the door.

Sam reappeared a half hour later.

"I thought that liquor store was just across the street."

"It was, but they didn't have mint leaves. I had to go to the nearest supermarket. Thank God it was open 24 hours!"

She let out a disgusted breath and shook her head. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Hey, face it. You're a spy, you know what it's like. Spies have to be a little nuts. I mean, how many people would sit in a dark room with only the light from a street lantern to make mojitos by while they watch a slimy scumbag have sex with a strange woman?" He paused. "They did... didn't they?"

"I kept my eyes closed during that part," Rebecca admitted. She took the plastic cup that Sam handed her and took a sip. "Holy cow, that's a really fine mojito, Sam!"

"Thanks. I've drunk enough of them, I know what makes a good one." He took a sip of his own and leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, that's a good one."

"So, what do we do now?"

"I'm calling Mike to let him know we found Anson. Then we'll go from there." He picked up his phone. "Mike, it's me, Sam. We found Anson. He's in this crappy little city, and right now he's romancing some chick across the river from where we're staying."

"You're kidding."

"Nope." He chuckled. "And believe me, Mike, I'd rather watch cockroaches mate."

"Alright. Keep an eye on him and I'll contact Pearce. She's been waiting for my call."

Sam glanced at Rebecca, surprise on his face. He put the phone on speaker. "Can you repeat that, Mike?"

"Sure. I talked to Pearce, told her where you were, and apparently some of her intelligence pointed to him going to Wisconsin."

"So we did all the work for her," Rebecca asked, anger rising in her voice.

"Basically, yeah," Michael answered. "Don't worry, Rebecca, we'll put in a good word for you on this one, both you and Sam."

"How long before the cavalry comes, Mike?"

"She said that a team left Milwaukee about forty five minutes ago. I'll let her know where they need to be, if you just give me the address."

"I don't know the exact address, but it's an old brick office building that's been converted into condos, on the south side of the river, next to the 8th Street bridge. You can't miss it. They're on the third floor."

"They?"

"He's with some woman he picked up. They were really getting hot and heavy for while, but it's pretty quiet over there now. The lights are still on, though."

"Okay. Thanks, Sam. We'll get him."

"We?" Rebecca asked.

"The agency," Michael answered.

Rebecca barked, "They better." Sam detected anger brewing in her tone, and when the connection ended, she asked, "Why don't we try to get him ourselves?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to go up against him with just the two of us."

"Well then, that's just you." Rebecca set her cup down on the table with such force, the last of her mojito splashed onto the surface. "I'm going to figure out a way to get in there."

"Rebecca, no! The CIA has agents on the way!"

She got up and moved toward the door, but Sam fought his way out of the chair and cut her off. His back was against the door, and one hand locked the bolt. "You're not going anywhere, Rebecca."

"Like hell I'm not." She grabbed a hunk of his shirt at the shoulder and tried to pull him away from the door, but Sam was firmly entrenched, despite the mojito and beer buzz.

"Becky, no!" He put his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Stop it! I know what I'm doing!"

"And so do I! Let them do their jobs."

"The job they should have done eight years ago?" A sob came out of her. "When Anson kidnapped and killed my mother when my father wouldn't do his bidding?"

"Oh, Becky, I didn't know." Sam held her against his body, trying to ease her pain, but he knew it was a useless gesture.

She wriggled out of his grasp. "Don't call me Becky! That's what my mother called me, and she's gone, and... and nobody gets away with it..."

"You let me use that name several times," he responded softly. She dropped onto her bed, and he sat beside her and took her hand in his.

"It worked for the job, but no more. Please, no more." She broke down and wept, and Sam bit his bottom lip as he tried to comfort her. Just a hand hold or a pat on the back wasn't enough. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. She shook as the pain from the past leached out of her. Her arms surrounded his middle, hanging on like he was a buoy in the ocean and she was drowning without its assistance. He pulled her head into his shoulder and his thumb wiped away the tears that seemed to have no end.

Through the open curtain he saw a flurry of activity across the river in the third floor condo. Men in suits barged in and grabbed Anson. They shoved a ball of clothing into his arms and took the man away. "Becca, look up." He pushed her away enough so she could turn and see the event being played out. "They're not even going to let him change back into his clothes before they round him up. It's over. It's all over."

Rebecca sniffled and swiped at her eyes. Her shoulders sagged in relief, and she leaned back against Sam. The men left the condo with Anson, and not long after they saw him cross the parking lot with the suits all around him. They shoved him into a car, and the men piled into two vehicles and took off. The woman, wrapped in a robe, walked around the condo in a daze.

"You know, I don't even feel sorry for her."

"I do." Sam replied. "Becca, she had no idea what she was getting into. None of us did when Anson crossed our paths." He turned her to face him. "I know you're hurting, but can't you show just a little compassion?"

Rebecca raised her chin and let her head fall back. "Sam, I'm too tired, too worn out, too... I don't know... mentally bankrupt right now to think about anything but how I feel."

"How do you feel?"

"Relieved, but I'm afraid that this isn't over." Her tears began to flow again. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know what's wrong with me."

He didn't say anything. Sam put his arms around Rebecca again and simply held her to his chest. She found her solace in him again, and her body began to relax. Any minute now she would probably fall asleep and then maybe he could take advantage of what was left of the night. Rebecca wriggled until her face came up to his. She kissed his cheek tenderly. Thinking she was done, he pulled away. Her hand rose to the side of his face, directing his lips to meet hers.

Oh no, here we go again! He pulled back. "Becca, what are you doing? Our cover is over."

"I know." Her lips brushed his and sent a shiver up his spine.

"I can't do this. Becca. No. Stop!" She kissed him after every word until he was breathless. But Sam still had the strength to push away from her. He stood up and put some distance between them.

"You really disappoint me, Sam. Here you have this reputation as being such a ladies' man, and you've got rich women swooning at your feet. What's the matter? Am I not good enough for you because I don't have my own yacht?"

"Becca, if I were a free man... I would be very attracted to you. But I love Elsa, and I could never, ever, cheat on her." He got his breath back and asked, "Haven't you ever felt that way for someone?"

"No." She lied, crossed her arms and legs, and stared at him.

"I'm sorry, Becca, if you feel that I led you on. I never should have made all those mojitos... and the beers. We should have just kept it strictly business." She didn't say a word to him, just kept staring. "I, uh, I better find some other place to stay the night." He turned toward the door to leave.

"When I kidnapped you, and you called her, and I said I thought we had something special..." She smirked. "I really believed that, deep down, there was something between us. Most guys would have tried their best to get away, but you stayed with me even when you had more than one opportunity to escape."

He stood near the door, facing her. "And you didn't shoot me or blow me up when you had the chance."

"I was trying to get away, to get to the place where Anson was supposed to contact me for the next project he wanted me to do. I thought your presence would slow me down, but you helped me. You kept me sane when I thought I was going to go crazy from fear." She stood and walked up to him, placed her hands on the sides of his face, and kissed him once. It was a light, gentle press of her lips on his reluctant ones. "Thank you." She turned to her suitcase, opened it, and took out some things. Then she moved toward the bathroom, stopped at the door, and turned back toward him. "You don't have to leave, Sam. I promise I'll behave myself and I won't attack you in your sleep." A quirky smile crossed her lips.

"You know what? I'm going to step out for a bit and think about it." He quickly left the room, exited the motel, and found a park bench not far away. He sat and waited for enough time to pass that Rebecca would be asleep. Then he would see if it was safe to go into the room and bed down for the rest of the night.

"Hey, buddy."

Sam twitched, but he didn't awaken. Then something poked him in the ribs, and he mumbled. "What the..." He sat up and stared at the officer who stood over him. Behind him, the sky was purple and red. "Oh man, what time is it?" He glanced at his watch as the officer replied.

"It's a little after five. What are you doing sleeping on this bench?"

Sam thought fast. With a sheepish grin, and a chuckle, he answered, "The girlfriend threw me out of our room last night. Everything else in this town was booked, so I thought I'd just sit here awhile and let her cool off. Guess I fell asleep out here."

"Where are you staying?"

Sam held up the keycard and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Right there, Officer."

"Okay. You better go back inside, see if you can work things out. You're lucky you didn't get robbed out here."

"No kidding. This place isn't as bad as Miami, but, it's definitely not safe." Although last night, anything was safer than sharing a room with Rebecca.

"You enjoy your stay in our city, Sir. And hopefully everything will work out with the girl." He winked at Sam and continued on his beat.

"Thanks." Sam got up and made his way to the room. Rebecca was still asleep, so he slipped off his shoes and lay on top of the bed coverings on his bed, hoping she would be none the wiser. When she woke up she never said anything to him about his slipping out and staying away all night. Everything was as it had been before the lover's play they used to cover themselves far too many times the night before.

After a shower and a change of clothes, he and Rebecca caught the continental breakfast in a lounge area, then checked out. She made conversation with him, but it was stilted, like there was something else that hadn't been resolved. Sam wasn't going to open up that can of worms. It was bad enough that he had to figure out whether to risk telling Elsa what happened or just let it go.

Touching down in Miami, the plane parked in front of the hangar and Elsa's Cadillac sat on the tarmac. She got out, a big smile on her face. Sam saw her and suddenly felt weak in the knees. She did that to him, and nothing could break him of it. He hurried down the stairs, met her half way, dropped his bag, and took her in his arms. As he kissed her in a way so unlike how he kissed Rebecca, he was keenly aware of her watching. By the time they broke apart, she was gone.

"I missed you, Sammy. Did everything work out?"

"I missed you too, pumpkin. Yes, everything worked out. It's over. That cloud over Mike's head is gone."

"Oh good! Let's go back to the hotel and plan a celebration for your friends tonight." She took his arm and led him to the car. An airport employee took Sam's bag and put it into the trunk. Then she drove away, and Sam looked in the side mirror. He saw Rebecca standing alone, and the sad look on her face left him wondering what her future held.

Good luck, Becca. You're a good partner. There's gotta be someone out there for you, and I hope you find him.


End file.
